


Time’s Monotone

by MuddyBlood



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Narcissa Black Malfoy, Coma, F/F, Femslash, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Good Slytherins, Ron Weasley Bashing, mindscape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 12:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17365628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuddyBlood/pseuds/MuddyBlood
Summary: When an accident leaves Hermione trapped inside her own mind, It’s up to one of the last remaining mind healers to try and put her back together, but even Narcissa Black herself may have some trouble with that.





	Time’s Monotone

It had been darkness for a long time now. In the beginning she had regular visitors, friends and familly. Those slowly petered out, untiil her only regular was Draco Malfoy, and judging from his rants and sad mutterings, he blamed himself for her current state. She wanted nothing more than to reach out for him, telling him she would do it all again in a heartbeat, every excruciating moment, even knowing it would lead her here, an out of the way hospital room at St. Mungo’s, smelling of muggle antiseptic. But frankly, Hermione was tired of this, not being able to respond, or even to move at all. The brightest minds worked on cures, even tried muggle ones for her magically induced coma. She was wasting away, as only Harry and, surprisingly, sometimes Snape, were the only ones to think to read to her. She wasn’t mad they stopped coming, really, she didn’t expect them to. It stung though, how even Snape who’s supposed to hate her visited longer than Ron, her boyfriend. Then again, Ginny mentioned something about Lavender again when catching her up on the gossip, probably the least interesting thing she could talk about other than quidditch. Draco’s visits were really the most bittersweet, as she would hear him pause sometimes while working something out, as if waiting for her input. They certainly weren’t close before, but saving someone’s life tends to form some kind of a bond. Surprisingly enough it had been McLaggen, the jerk, that had almost killed Malfoy, even if not entirely on purpose. A repeat of Snape’s story, really. Maybe that was why he visited me, Hermione mused, as she had distracted the werewolf like any good Gryffindor; name calling and throwing things. It was her valliant, if unconventional, rescue of Draco that brought her here, trapped in her own mind. She learned quickly though how to pass the time, practicing the little occulomency she knew was one way. She built walls around a grand manor, housing all her memories, experiences, feelings, and anything else she happened to find. But her pride and joy, where she spent most of her time, was the library. See, part of the reason Hermione learns so fast is that she has eidetic, or photographic, memory. So her library was every book she’s read, spanning back to her earliest days as she sorted through her mind. A grand domed glass ceiling was the main source of light, reading lamps scattered amongst comfy armchairs and low tables the only other light. She really only left the library when she had a visitor, or if she decided to work on the already impressive walls protecting her mind. So as trapped as she was physically, she had never had a more organized mind. But really, the most interesting thing that ever happened was when Draco stayed too long, and his mom had to come get him. The cold woman Hermione remembered from the World Cup almost completely disappeared around her son, apparent in even the few quiet words Hermione heard her say. Really, Narcissa had only spoken to Hermione once, the first day she came to get Draco, and even that was just a whispered ‘thank you’. But for some reason the aristocrat had captured her attention in those few words, emotions more obvious than even in most Gryffindors; which was really saying something, all things considered. Her musings were interrupted by a quiet knock on the door, before it opened with a thud as it slammed against the wall.  _ ‘Draco, then’ _ Hermione thought, hearing clomping footsteps come towards her as the door slammed shut. The teenager threw himself into the chair next to the bed, sending it sliding across the floor a few inches under his weight. “ _ Oh, _ you would not  _ believe _ the idiots I have to deal with!” Draco exclaimed, sighing. “Can you believe, just earlier today, someone said bowtruckles were  _ fairies _ !” Hermione wished she could chuckle at his exasperated tone, but was content just to listen to him rant about what stupidity he experienced in the 12 hours since his last visit. He was quite intelligent, Hermione mused, when he really put his mind to it. But times like these she was reminded of the much more shallow boy she first met at age 11. At least this time it wasn’t anyone’s blood status he was blathering on about, rather the general ineptitude of the whole population of both Hogwarts and Hogsmead. He was just getting into the part about ‘the damn Hufflepuffs’ when a somewhat familiar voice broke in. 

“Don’t you think your boring her?” The amused voice of Narcissa Malfoy interrupted smoothly, having somehow opened even the creakiest door in the hospital completely silently. 

“Mom!” Draco exclaimed, jumping out of his seat in surprise. “What are you doing here? Not that I don’t appreciate you visiting, but it’s not time to go yet, is it?” Draco questioned, mirroring Hermione’s thoughts almost exactly. 

“I’m here on business, I’m afraid.” Narcissa answered, a smile in her tone at the 16 year old menace her son grew up to be. Her voice soured though at the next sentence, distaste curling her words. “They need someone  _ expendable _ ,” Hermione could almost hear the sneer in her voice, “To test a new procedure-“

“They want to use  _ Hermione  _ for something?” Draco exclaimed, horrified.

“If you would just let me finish,” Narcissa sighed out, “you would know that  _ I’m _ the expendable one here, and I will be testing a new, possibly dangerous way to wake her up.”

“Oh.” Hermione could practically hear Draco’s eyes opening wide. “But you’re not, you’re not going to get  _ hurt _ are you?” He stammered, worry lacing his tone. 

“Of course not, Little Prince,” Hermione snickered in her head, storing that away for future use. “I’ll be perfectly careful. However, I do need complete concentration, so I will need you to leave.”. Draco’s protests were cut short by Narcissa ushering him out. Hermione had only a second to feel nervous about being alone with the notorious blood supremist before the footsteps reached her bed. Narcissa didn’t explain anything, unsurprisingly, as she probably didn’t think Hermione could hear her, or maybe she wouldn’t have anyways. Before she could wonder for too long however, a cold hand pulled one of her eyelids up, the first she had seen in days, and equally cold blue eyes looked at her. There was a second of calm, before a sucking sensation brought Hermione spinning back into her mindscape. She was standing where she left off before, in front of the k-l rows of her library, but this time there was a rhythmic banging echoing around the place. Hermione rushed outside impossibly fast, flying over the ‘ground’ of her mind. She finally stopped in front of the wooden gate that was the only entrance, where the noise was coming from. A quick thought and the door swung open, revealing Narcissa Malfoy with the equivalent of a mental battering ram ready to bash into the door again. They stood frozen for a moment, staring at each other, before Hermione broke the silence with a quip. “You know, you could have just knocked,”, Narcissa just stared in disbelief. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking this out! Kudos and comments appreciated and I do take requests and constructive criticism. Check out my tumblr- @EmberHound


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